


Invisible Sentiments to those Already Gone

by Sirhorsealot



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood Loss, F/F, Femslash, Flowers, Guilty thoughts, Hanahaki Disease, I tried to keep the relationship in this fic a secret (first half), Shhh ;), Unreliable Narrator, possibly?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirhorsealot/pseuds/Sirhorsealot
Summary: The petals kept coming and coming, covered in that sickly crimson, the proof of her love. If only the flowers she was throwing up were red - then perhaps she could ignore those feelings.
Relationships: Ushiromiya Eva/Ushiromiya Natsuhi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Invisible Sentiments to those Already Gone

**Author's Note:**

> The title is based on an idea thoroughly explored by the actual story - that events that didn't actually happen can be observed by anyone as long as they're not the detective. Therefore, these "invisible" events become the truth until proven otherwise. Take that as you will in the context of this fic ^^

The sterile whiteness of the walls and curtains didn't bother her, nor did the mild glare of the sun peeking into her room. Even the feeling of plant life crawling up her throat wasn't too much of a bother at this point.

No, it was the deep, almost purple blood dripping onto that sterile whiteness, blocking out that glowing light, coming up with the dozens of flowers as they constricted her lungs. _That_ was what bothered Natsuhi.

If she were to be honest with herself, that wasn't the only thing. But the moment she pointed that out to herself, the roots grew tighter.

She was going to die soon. April 23rd, 1986. Natsuhi was certain that _this_ was the day she'd finally die.

She'd been languishing in a hospital for a while, after a bout with her particular illness had made her pass out and nearly die from asphyxiation. It didn't really get to her, not after the dozens of times that had happened prior. But her family seemed to disagree. Hideyoshi and Kyrie in particular were the most vocal of the bunch in favor of the idea, and Natsuhi being herself went along with it.

After all, better to die amongst strangers who could keep her comfortable until her final moments than suddenly at home, right before the servants or, worse, her own daughter.

Her heart twisted a bit at the thought of Jessica. Natsuhi had known quickly, _easily_ that Jessica was in the same situation as her. She saw the misplaced petals, the slowly-growing coughing fits that had Jessica sooner running to the bathroom than using her inhaler. She _knew_.

Jessica also had the Hanahaki Disease.

And the thought absolutely terrified Natsuhi. She had followed this path of her own volition, but would wish it upon no one. Her daughter was just the kind of person, like her mother, to believe dying for love to be better than removing those feelings entirely. So Natsuhi knew, deep down, that Jessica would likely die from the disease if she wasn't swift in finding reciprocation for her feelings. She could only hope that her own death would knock some sense into that girl's thick head.

There was also Krauss, her mind was quick to remind. As difficult as their relationship had been at the start, Natsuhi really did come to care for him and, even as she lie and cough up too many flowers to count, coated head to stem in gut-wrenching crimson, she wished him the best moving forward. Try as she may to be the perfect wife, Natsuhi was well-aware of her own failings.

Krauss deserved better. And he deserved someone who deeply, truly loved him.

Natsuhi couldn't help but think of _all_ the faces she would be leaving behind. George and his promising future. Kyrie, somehow always able to reign Rudolph in. And of course, the recently returned Battler, ready and willing to take on the world even if he wasn't quite able to yet.

The mere thought of them distracted Natsuhi enough that the flowers stopped moving inside her chest. The nurse in the room patted her head as the last few petals fluttered out of her mouth, using her other hand to hold up the trashcan that Natsuhi had become intimately familiar with over the five months in the hospital room she called her own.

With the end of the torrent, for now, Natsuhi thickly swallowed back the iron-tasting blood in her mouth as she leaned her skinny frame back against the pillow.

There was Maria, all smiles or painfully gloomy with little in-between. And struggling Rosa. She wished the two well, recalling a particular scene she had stumbled into, completely oblivious. The sounds of Maria's cries and Rosa's palm connecting with flesh were forever burned into her eardrums.

And then she was remembering, recalling those witty smiles and sideways glances. Yes, Rosa reminded Natsuhi of the reason for her disease, the person she loved and the person she was dying for.

Back came the flowers, insistent and nearly choking as they rose again. But Natsuhi couldn't stop. Those warm feelings played on her heart, it's nostalgic thrum beating against the roots that had ensnared her lungs ever-so-slowly, almost without her knowledge, with the touch of phantoms of emotions that Natsuhi previously dare not think of.

The blood in her mouth was now sweet at the recollection of love. The flowers elegantly danced through her and out into the world, all in perfect bloom. There was that time, when the one she loved had asked her where she'd go if she could go anywhere. Natsuhi had almost, _very nearly_ said, "Wherever you are."

The petals kept coming and coming, covered in that sickly crimson, the proof of her love. If only the flowers she was throwing up were red - then perhaps she could ignore those feelings.

But she couldn't. Not anymore.

The pitiable on-duty nurse had to run to get the trashcan again, her fumbling mere static in Natsuhi's world. That pity tugged her mind away from those thoughts, back to what she was thinking of before. Of those she would be leaving. Almost at once, the flowers grew still, and the resonant coughs died down once more. The nurse asked her to hold the trashcan this time, predicting another surprise attack. Natsuhi could find herself relating to that struggle.

So much of her life was spent over worrying about slip-ups, over trying to be the best she could and somehow prove it to herself, that she'd lost sight of many things. Things too important to forget.

She wished that she hadn't been so unyielding about Jessica's speech.

She wished she could take back all the coldness she had given the servants.

She _really_ wished she'd said, out loud, just _one time_... that she loved the person of her affections.

Her movements were automatic, almost robotic. The flowers had returned, of course. This time, she paid them more mind. She recalled what a florist had told her about them, when she'd asked as the flowers had finally started having serious negative affects on her health.

Blue delphinium. Purple heliotrope. Chamomile.

The mix of cool colors, offset by the occasional white was close to being pretty, if not for the red that smeared over them all.

Yarrow. Lavender. Sweetpea.

Those six had become the ones her body had seemed to select, to decide on, as symbols of what she felt. Natsuhi had to admit though - they did fit rather well. Almost too well.

She wasn't even aware of her labored breathing until the trashcan was slipping from her grip as her body prioritized using oxygen in her brain. Her lungs greedily took in breath after breath, but it was never enough.

It never would be.

Natsuhi pondered to herself, the corners of her vision growing steadily hazy, what that person would think. She knew that they were all gathered outside, just beyond the door, voices muffled but clearly present. And that one, the one Natsuhi could identify in her sleep or pick out of a crowd any day, was there as well. Her heart just about exploded with a powerful joy and cavernous sadness at hearing it.

She didn't want them to see her. Not like this. Not pathetically, disgustingly exposing her feelings clear as day for all to see. Not as a show to gain entertainment from. So she was glad that she'd instructed the nurse not to let any of them in.

Her heart wouldn't be able to take it. Neither would her struggling lungs.

Yet that yearning, one she'd fought for what felt like a lifetime, was wrapping it's arms around her, whispering and tempting. Natsuhi had learned long ago that listening to it only caused more pain and trouble than good. But that didn't make her want to give in any less.

The nurse was kind, rubbing Natsuhi's back gently as the coughs grew more and more violent. The talking outside stopped. That voice stopped.

Natsuhi's heart sank. That just made it harder to try pushing them back, harder to turn her mind from the one thing in the world that was literally eating her up from the inside out.

And she knew - she was about to die.

There was no great revelation, no proud decree. Natsuhi just knew. She couldn't take not thinking about them for any longer.

She wished that they would just come in, burst open the door and declare that they felt the same. But that was nothing more than a candid, helpless dream; purely folly. They’d gotten the surgery, and the hope of shared feelings had become nothing more than pitiful fantasy.

And a realization hit her. All this time, she'd been wishing, _wishing_ she'd done things differently.

 _This_ was her chance.

Her hand met the nurse's shoulder, prompting the other woman to look towards her face.

Against the shower of flowers and petals and blood, Natsuhi spoke. Her voice was little more than a hoarse creak. But she enunciated precisely, and the sheer determination set into her face allowed for a nearly wordless understanding between the two.

“Give these flowers... to the one I love.”

That was the message, quietly whispered above the coughing, above the overwhelming sound of flowers hitting the floor - yes, the floor now. The trashcan had long since been filled.

So as her vision faded without an end to the flowers in sight, Natsuhi was aware of the feeling of curling her lips into a smile, internally holding that nurse to their promise while everything else fell away beneath her.

The flowers thrived... and Natsuhi stopped breathing.

-

On the other side of the door, the small group shuffled about nervously, able to hear Natsuhi’s awful coughing loud and clear. Only one person remained mostly unaffected; Eva.

While the others had taken to pacing or fidgeting, George in particular fumbling with the collar of his suit, she remained still and quiet. There was a reason for this, of course, but it wasn't like it mattered too much anyway. As Maria's innocent questions turned more and more probing, Rosa's voice rising in an effort to keep her daughter contained and the general nervousness of the entire ensemble growing too overpowering to bear, Eva couldn't help it when she raised her voice.

"Will you all _stop_?!" Realizing that it was a bit too loud for the setting, Eva lowered her voice as she continued, but it held the same cold ferocity as before. "You can hear Natsuhi nee-san in there, can't you? Do you _really_ want her to hear us all out here, making things worse than they need to be? If her life is near it's end, the least we can do is keep quiet and let her pass in peace."

This seemed to still them, though Jessica's face flashed with pain at being reminded of the situation and Battler's was, dare she say, aggressive. But they knew that there was no room for argument with Eva, especially when she dropped her usual, teasing tone in exchange for commanding malice.

Kyrie nodded in agreement, elbowing her husband in the arm as he winced soundlessly. Hideyoshi patted her arm without a word. Krauss, standing nearer to the door than all the others, simply bowed his head as though offering a prayer.

It took them a while to realize that the coughing had stopped. All was still in the hall, with the occasional clamor of nurses and doctors in other rooms, going about their day. The quiet was then replaced with similar such noises from within Natsuhi's room, some of which Eva could identify readily.

Running water. Someone shuffling through cupboards full of medical instruments and supplies. The repositioning of someone in the bed.

That last sound was the one that sent alarms ringing in Eva's head. It had been silent for far, far too long. There wasn't even a sniffle or the clearing of a throat. Just nothingness on the other side of that closed door.

It then suddenly opened, revealing the nurse who had been inside and tending to Natsuhi. Eva couldn't see her clearly from her place behind Krauss and her husband, but she could see a flash of purple.

"I apologize, but before I speak with you all, I was asked to bring in Eva Ushiromiya first. Is she here?"

All heads turned to her, their eyes boring deep into her skin. Eva stepped forward, looking to her older brother as if to ask permission. He nodded solemnly. The nurse led her inside the clean, white room, careful to close the door behind them.

On the bed was Natsuhi, and upon just a single glance, Eva could already tell that she was dead. Her face had gone pale, unblemished by all the blood that must've come up her throat with the flowers. Her body lie straight, hands lightly clasped together on her chest. Just like what you might see in an open coffin, but without the lifelike make-up.

There were still spots of the scarlet liquid on the floor and sheets, glimmering like jewels from the spring sunshine. The nurse had stepped away for a moment, but was now next to Eva again and held within her hands a bouquet.

It was comprised of small flowers, mostly purple with spottings of white and the occasional blue. The bundle itself was tiny enough for a young child to hold in one hand. There were flowers within that Eva vaguely recognized, such as chamomile, which she only really bothered to remember because of all the herbal tea she and her family drank. Most of them were foreign, though.

"I can tell you what they are and what they mean, if you'd like. This isn't the first case of Hanahaki I've seen."

Eva nodded, whatever words she could've spoken dying off in her throat. Everything felt surreal, like a bad dream that wouldn't end. Deep down she knew she had to face reality. She just _wasn't ready yet_.

"The blue flowers are blue delphinium. In the world of flowers, it means dignity and goodwill. I'm sure you've picked out the lavender by now... It means silence, devotion and in some cases caution."

Eva numbly digested that information. Only two flowers in, and she could already feel Natsuhi radiating from them, as though they contained the very essence of her soul.

"The larger white flowers with the yellow centers are chamomile, and they're representative of patience, modesty and innocence. The smaller white ones are yarrow. Yarrow is often given to others to express concern and provide inspiration for the recipient."

She nearly chuckled at that, a rumble in her throat resounding without noise. It was tenser than Eva cared to realize.

"Then, the final two... They're sweetpeas and purple heliotrope. Sweetpeas are symbolic of loss and parting, apparently serving as the inspiration for one of Shakespeare's most famous lines."

And then, gradually, the silence returned. The nurse seemed not to know what to say exactly, as though she had terrible news without a clue of how to deliver it. Taking a deep breath, she appeared to steel herself and picked back up with the sixth, and seemingly last, flower.

"This one, as I said, is purple heliotrope. It means... devotion or eternal love."

 _Krauss_. Eva connected the two immediately. She ignored the tiny prick of pain within her own heart. The nurse took another breath, forcing a plainly-faked smile as she held the bouquet out. It was tied with a thin black string likely used in suturing.

"These are for my brother, then?"

She had to know, even if her voice emanated hollow venom. Eva was always a curious soul. There was nothing she didn't have some sort of interest in. The slightly off-beat thrumming of her heart was also very convincing. Though it surprised her on a surface level, she truthfully didn't feel shock when the nurse shook her head. Instead, it was vertigo-like, her head beginning to swirl.

"She specified that these were to be given to _you_ , Eva Ushiromiya. No one else."

And all at once, the meanings of those flowers rushed back to her. A specific feeling crept up Eva's throat, one she'd forgotten until that moment, familiar and uncomfortable but far less fear-inducing than the last time she had experienced it. She began coughing, her fit continuing on and on as she doubled over, desperately covering her mouth with both hands.

Feelings came rushing back in where they'd been so absent before. Regret and guilt crashed into each other behind her eyes, and love, all-encompassing, filled her entire vision. Tears spilled over her cheeks, a furious flush creeping up her face as the air getting through her mouth grew to be less and less. Thick blood seeped from between the cracks her fingers provided, and she closed them even tighter in response. She never wanted to let it go.

Not ever again.

Something thin and miniscule, practically baby-sized compared to what Eva had dealt with in the past, slowly slid upwards with each hack and wheeze. She was only barely aware of the nurse rubbing her back as she got it up.

With the plant in her mouth, the intense tidal wave of emotions ebbed. She had half a mind to swallow it again, however - she wanted to keep those tender memories in tact, to know once again and _forever_ that gentle warmth. There was just one truth she had to, now more than ever before, face head-on.

Natsuhi was dead. That could never be taken back, nor reversed. The story that they shared... could never be a happy one.

The stalk was finally spit out, the man-made dam opening to allow the sizzling blood freedom. Eva rose and walked over to her sleeping love without words, placing an offering, and response, in those cupped hands.

As she began to leave, the nurse insisted on her washing the blood dripping from her chin and hands, on drying her tears. To make herself presentable to the remainder of her family. But those liquids, the ones softly caressing her as they fell back to the earth, were the only reminder of the emotions she had gotten to live that singular, final time.

Eva had no words for the relatives when she exited the room and began down the hall, not even a response to the concerned cries and fearful whispers - if she did, they had died in her throat along with the love she felt. And left in that room was a sight no one would see as her footsteps grew distant and voices rose in panic.

Natsuhi, body cold but smiling with the peace of expressing those sentiments at long last, holding a bloody inflorescence of forget-me-nots as the calming spring sun shone in.

**Author's Note:**

> Inflorescence - a group or cluster of flowers arranged on a stem comprised by a main branch or arrangement of branches  
> I've been compiling au ideas for this pairing (too many, dear lord XDD) and this one just presented, in my opinion, the best representation of Eva and Natsuhi's relationship as it's shown in the game. I initially didn't want to do angst, but in this setting, I felt it would only be natural for them both to deny their feelings to the point of endangering themselves.  
> I hope the whole flower symbolism thing wasn't too forceful or exposition-y ^^' I just really wanted to show off what flowers I chose to represent Natsuhi's feelings to tell the truth X3  
> But I won't tell you what forget-me-nots are symbolic of! I mean, if you've read some other Hanahaki fics like me, you probably already know, but please don't spoil it for those who are unaware ;7  
> Thank you for reading!  
> Also, just adding this... If you're at all confused by the story, which I'm sure some of you are or will be, I'd be happy to explain what led to these events in the comments, or maybe even write them.


End file.
